Underclass Hero
by IloveRockAndRoll
Summary: Lanna Hasting has always been a quiet, cold girl. When she learns she's a demigod, her life doesn't get any better...Flames are welcome. Rated T for minor swearing.
1. Meet Lanna Hasting, a very unstable kid

**Greetings reader!**

** My grammar is horrible, so I beg you to use your valuable time to flame my (many) mistakes. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: Meet Lanna Hasting, a very unstable girl

« And what do you think of this! » I said, very coolly.

I quickly turned around, grab his wrist and slowly started to twist it. Mark what's-his-face cried painfully and I kept switching, feeling the bones cracking under his skin.

"Leave me, witch!" he cried, desperately trying to get off my grip.

"You should apologize, boy. Your momma wouldn't be happy with this sort of behaviour."

"You're even more stupid than ugly" he added, panting, on his knees. I've always enjoyed being that powerful.

"Whatever" I dryly broke his wrist, it made a disgusting noise as it cracked up. He screamed, and I felt a cold smile growing on my lips. I know I was in a serious trouble, but I couldn't help thinking that he deserved it. Okay, maybe it wasn't really right to break someone wrist because he told me I looked like a tramp and my mum wasn't probably better. Usually, I would have let it slipped, but I was already angry and he just pushed me to the breaking point.

"Lanna Hasting, what have you done?" The principal, Mr Martin, burst out of the crowd, looking like he was hesitating between tears or murdering me "in the office, NOW!"

I thought it was probably better if I didn't say anything. I just followed him, students staring at me, and I fought the urge of saying "do you want a picture, or what?" Instead I stood very straight, my eyes challenging them.

When we arrived in the office, he phoned my mother and explained what happened. Then he outfaced me.

"So what did you do this?" he calmly asked. I knew he wasn't that peaceful, by the way he was nervously tipping his fingers.

"Sir, he insulted my family, he didn't…" But he cut me, beginning to yell and well, spitting on my face.

"Oh and that's why you broke his wrist? Have you any sense of measure? You don't hurt someone **physically **because he badmouthed you! How old are you Miss?"

I tighten my lips.

"Twelve"

"Well, is that what twelve years old girls do? Wound other people? Shouldn't, I don't know, being more about kissing boys than punching them?"

Suddenly, I did really want to try it on in his stupid face.

"Technically, I didn't punch him. And I feel like you have a very retarded image of girls, Sir" I answered, putting all the sarcasm I have in the last word.

Mr Martin started to turn a nice shade of Bordeaux red.

"How dare you… he suffocated, you're fired!"

"Oh, don't worry for this, there are plenty of others… hum I'd say highly incompetent head teachers out there" I gave him a chilly smile and before he could react, grabbed my bag and before I slammed the door I added:

"Have a great day!"

After getting out of the school, I jumped on a bus, abruptly wanting to get out of the city. The weather was beautiful outside. It was the middle of June. You could sense all the Nature vibrating, almost mature, like a beautiful middle aged woman, ready to give and receive. The flawless blue sky and the already hot sun were promises of golden beaches, emerald forests, outdoor activities, etc… I sighed. Maybe, have I been too harsh with Mr Marin. But sometimes, I just couldn't help it. You see, I hate stereotypes. Why should a Goth be always sad? And a girl all about ponies and pink? And, God tell me, why a boy should be more apt to fight than a girl? I smirked, that was deep.

At least I won't have to go to St Patrick Junior anymore. This was good news. I simply hated it there: people were paying way too much attention to appearance. For example, I'm not fashionable. Yes I said it, and I'm not ashamed. Actually, I simply don't get the point of it. How can you want a skirt if you can't even run in it? And high heels? Eew! I mean, it's not even comfortable!

I didn't know where I was going. This was careless, but I was feeling so tired that my dyslexia was even worse than usual. I simply got out of the bus and gazed at the undergrowth about two hundreds feet away. I smiled, until I saw something, very… unusual.

From far away it looked like the biggest, scariest, terribly huge black dog I've ever seen. When it came closer, I knew what was wrong. It had two heads. And both were looking at me like I was some sort of nice smelling steak. I did the most natural thing. I ran.

**Thank you for reading it. I'm not a native english speaker, so it's normal I might use weird constructions. Please Review!**


	2. Incredible jump? I beat the Olympic guys

**Thanks for the reviews!^^ And no, she will never, ever fall in love with Nico... Enjoy!**

Chapter two: Incredible jump? I beat the Olympic champions!

It's absolutely amazing how you body can react before you even think about it. It immediately knows what to do, implying in this unique case, racing like crazy.

So I ran, I ran like I never did before. You do not have to be Einstein to understand that this _thing_, this two headed Dog wasn't Paris Hilton's Chihuahua. But It started to chase me, and I realized I wasn't mach for its speed, even though It was probably three hundred kilos or something.

For the first time, I felt exactly what it's like to be a deer, to be hunted by much more powerful and faster being than you.

So I headed to the forest. It seemed the only place where I could be safe. The Dog was gaining speed, probably two hundred feet away. I pushed my legs harder. The forest was getting closer and closer. And the monster closer and closer too!

I entered in the forest like hurricane, the monster pressing me, breaking the peaceful silence by a concert of respirations. In the monster's case, greedy and excited, as it was thinking: "How I am going to accommodate this tender piece of meat?" and in mine, scarred to death.

I was lost; I'll never be able to eat chocolate again.

Then, something odd happened.

Somehow, I exactly knew when it was going to jump on me. I sensed its muscles bend, its mouths open (actually I smelt it more), and its claws prepare for the killing. The ground shook when the beast released the strength of its legs. When the Dog was in the air, I jumped.

I don't know if it was the speed or the adrenaline or if I suddenly developed super powers, but I flew high and even caught a branch. With the unknown muscles of my abs (like I said, super powers), I managed to get away enough from its two frightening maws. The Dog seemed very surprised when it took the trunk of this wonderful tree in its faces. At high speed I have to precise. With its tow mouths wide open.

The tree shook badly and I heard something snap. Oh God...

For a moment, seeing the monster flat on the floor, I supposed innocently it was dead.

Huge mistake. It got back on its paws, greatly confused. When it saw me, perched on my branch, it forgot all about the smacking-the-tree part and started to bark furiously.

It's a lot of noise coming from a Dog with the two gobs. It leaped on the stem, and I got a very good view of its nightmarish mouths. I boldly kicked one. That was very stupid.

While I was hitting it, the other one grabbed me by the calf and send me harshly on the ground, thirteen feet away. I shrieked.

The Dog came slowly, almost triumphant, enjoying its easy victory. Its chops were rolled up, looking like a cruel, terrible smile. I couldn't run. But I would fight as much as possible; making sure it will keep a memory of me.

There was a whistling sound coming from behind me, followed by a soft thump. Then two, four six of them. The beast howled and turned in a golden dust. Sorry, a golden dust? A freaking golden dust!

I turned around. Three girls emerged from the thicket. They were wearing camouflage clothes and had a bow in their hand. The eldest, about fifteen, had a very unique eyes colour. Two beautiful stormy clouds. The two other were my age, maybe a little less. I don't know why, but they made me think of three "Xena the Warrior Princess" in a younger version. Oh, my head must have hit the ground more powerfully than I imagined. They rushed to me and the leader started to talk really fast:

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time. Eat this." She handed me a small piece of food. I chewed and swallowed it quickly. My leg stopped to hurt and the world ceased to turn around. "Do you feel any better?"

I nodded. Much better.

"You're going to come back to your house. You'll tell to your real mum or dad that you know what you are. Ask them the story of your birth. Believe me, it's important."

Hey, nobody tells me what to do! But I owned her that.

"Tell them it's time for you to go at Camp Half-Blood. Do you understand?"

I answered, puzzled:

"What are you telling me that? Who do you think I am?"

"I bet you're ADHD and dyslexic. You were also kicked out of schools many times." She replied sternly. I gasped. Was she a stalker or something?

"It's not about who you are, but what you are." She got up and ordered to the other girls. "Let's go!" They began to run but I jumped and grabbed her hand:

"Wait!" The grey-eyed girl gazed at me, like she was regretting to have rescued me. "Just…Thanks" She smiled, softened. Then she raced away.

I was alone now, still sitting on the ground. Did I dream? No, my leg was a bit sore sweat was covering my body. My heart was beating madly in my chest and my hands were shaking. It was real. I just met a two-faced Dog and Rambo's and Xena's kids. Okay, Lanna, breath. Cool down. I'm not mad yet. I know what I saw.

I got up. I was still trembling, but I could walk. I gazed at where the beast had crashed. A deep cut was in the tree, but amazingly, it hadn't collapsed. That was strange. The cypress didn't seem robust enough to stop a three hundred kilos Dog at full speed. Another small mystery. I suddenly felt weak, sorry, I _was _weak. But I knew I wasn't going nuts.

I let out an inspiration and got out of the undergrowth.

**Sorry for the grammar mistakes. The monster is Orthos, the bicephale dog of Geyron. It was killed by Heracles. Please Review the chapter!^^  
**


	3. I think I'd have prefered the mad house

**I forgot to say I do not own Percy Jackson. Review please!:D**

Chapter 3: I think I would have preferred the madhouse…

When I arrived at home, something wasn't right. I live in Toronto, Canada, which is basically what New York for the USA is. Oh, and before you mock the Canadians, we do not live in igloos, we do not wrestle polar bears, we do not use "eh" and we are nicer than the Americans! Are you happy?

My mother, Aimee Hasting, was sitting on the sofa, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. Uh-oh, that was a bad signal. Don't get me wrong, my mum is a wonderfully nice and smiling person, but when she smokes in front of me, that mean she is very angry or very upset.

"Lanna, I think you have something to tell me…" her intonation was soft "you understand you'll have to apologize to Mark and your principal" she sighed "and find a new school too."

What could I answer? I didn't regret what I've done, but I had put my mother in a difficult position. She deserved a nice, warm daughter, someone she could be proud of, different from the violent kid I was. I lowered my head, suddenly ashamed.

She got up and patted my arm with her beautiful, thin hands. Her fingers were long and gentle and the skin was soft, a little dry, always smelling like the hospital soap. If she believed too I was a future delinquent, I was seriously conceiving to go hang myself.

I had to say something, maybe tell her how sorry I was, but sharply I remembered what the grey eyed girl ordered me:

"What's the story of my birth?"

My mother bolted away, a shocked expression on her face.

"What… What do you mean?" she tried to look confuse, but she was hiding something.

"I know what I am." I felt stupid to say this. My mother was probably going to think I was crazy. Surprisingly, she simply directed:

"Take a chair; you're going to need it."

It was the second time in one day that someone was being bossy with me. I swallowed my annoyance, and sat.

She was walking in the living room, visibly a little lost about what to reply. She took a deep breath and began:

"When you were younger, I narrated you the Greek myths, remember?" she glanced hopefully at me. I nodded. My mum being a nurse, she was often absent, so when we were together, it was our alone time. I always enjoyed it, even if it was reading about violent murders, incest, creepy gods and tragic ends… Exactly how you put a kid to sleep…

"Imagine just one second they exist…"

I started to laugh uneasily.

"Mum, they're just a bunch of legends men invented to explain how the world works… They don't exist." I heard the roaring of thunder outside. Wait, thunder in the flawless blue sky?

My mother glanced nervously at the window.

"Okay, if you don't understand like this… Lanna, do you have any scratches?"

Maybe she was going in nuts? I saw in a magazine that in those cases you had to reassure the person and obey. It was the only way not to be attacked.

She caught my perplex face.

"I'm not mad, show me one."

I indicated the cut of my wrist. She lightly touched it and hummed a prayer in ancient Greek, a prayer to Apollo. Since when did I speak Greek? Oh yeah I never, but I also met a two-headed dog. Nothing could surprise me anymore.

Of course I was wrong.

The cut disappeared as it had never existed. I think at the moment my expression was priceless, because my mother started to laugh.

"They're real, Lanna. And I'm the daughter of Asclepios." Her eyes were anxious, as she was expecting me to run away, screaming. I should probably have, but I simply thought it was pretty obvious why she was a nurse now.

"The Olympians, the monsters, everything is real. And now you're old enough to comprehend: you're a demigod Lanna, and you're not my daughter."

I now understood why she told me to sit.

**Yup, poor Lanna, I think she is a little lost...^^**


	4. That's when everything got nuts

**I still don't own Percy Jackson. This is short but I don't want to bore you to death with Aimee's story. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4: That's when everything got nuts

My mother wasn't my mother. Okay, it's fine. I'm a daughter of some mythological god. Even better. Monsters exist. That's just normal. What was the next thing? Elvis Presley isn't dead? I very normally yelled:

"What the hell are you telling me?"

It seemed my "mum", or should I call her Aimee, didn't appreciate my swearing. Hey, I bet anybody will swear if they learnt that!

"Honey, I love you…" she started "it doesn't matter, and technically I'm some sort of cousin…" I cut her, trying to control my temper.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked vehemently "Who are my parents? What do you want me to do?"

I was feeling nauseous. If I was there, it means that even my parents had abandoned me. They certainly already knew I was a burden. They didn't want me. And my mother, Aimee, she probably didn't want me too. She had to raise me because they ordered her. I put my face in my hands, miserable and disgraceful. All my life had been a lie and teachers were right when they said I had no future. I was sure I wasn't even wanted.

"Oh Lanna, I'm so sorry…" Aimee hugged me tightly "Let me explain, please…"She lifted my chin lightly.

"I… I couldn't have a child you see… It's funny when you think of it: a daughter of the god of medicine, impossible to infant…" her voice was tight, sad. "You can't imagine how hard it was… So I begged the gods… I prayed and prayed them to make this single, dearest wish come true: a baby…" She backed away, still holding my chin. A tear was rolling on her cheek. "I thought they didn't care, until this late fall night… I was at home, alone, desperate. When suddenly there was a cry outside, on the porch. I opened the door to see a baby in an elaborate golden cradle… No letter to explain, nothing, just this hungry tiny being…" She was smiling softly, her eyes far away, thirteen years ago. "It was you, Lanna; you're my present from the sky… I don't know who your parents are but I'll never be thankful enough to them… I loved you at the very moment I landed my gaze on you…"

It was the truth; I could sense it and see it in her eyes. It was awkward to know the story, but at the bottom of my heart, I was relieved and happy. Aimee Hasting wasn't my genitor, but she was my mother and that was all that mattered. There were other freaky demigods elsewhere, with an as freaky godly daddy or mommy. That's when it hit me:

"Mum, you told me monsters existed too, like the Furies or the Minotaur, eh?"

"Honey, don't call them by their names" she moved uncomfortably "They're the Kindly ones and the, err, Giant Bull…" she grinned, amused.

"Well, anyway you should know something" And I narrated my encounter with the Dog and Xena's kid…

My mother's face got pale.

"I'm such a moron, I should have told you before… We have to go."

"But where?"

"Camp Half-Blood, in New York."

**The next chapter is going to be pretty long...^^**


	5. The Sun also shines for the wicked

**I don't own Percy Jackson, only my characters...^^**

Chapter 5: The Sun also shines for the wicked

Nothing is worse than a plane for an ADHD kid. It's impossible to sit more than five minutes in a very narrow and uncomfortable seat. I was going mad and my mum too.

So I started to ask her numerous questions about demigod's life, the monsters and the camp, which had lead us to talk about the meeting with the mysterious girls.

"Who are they? Why were they fleeing?"

My mother looked thoughtful an instant, and replied.

"Artemis Hunters, certainly. But I don't understand why they were only three… And running away…" She turned quite, visibly perplexed.

Oh no, she was going to get lost in her thoughts! I had too many questions to ask!

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" I was still a bit irritated with her lack of trust.

"To protect you. Demigods smell even stronger when they learn it."

I crossed my arms. In a certain way, it should have been obvious that we weren't biologically related. She was petite, voluptuous, with a peachy skin and a warm aura. Instead I didn't have any curves, was desperately pale and everyone would agree that I was a rather cold and quiet person.

While I was torturing myself with questions as "who are my parents" or "what is this camp", the plane landed in New York by a warm afternoon. We descended, took our luggage and my mum ordered a taxi. We were waiting for it in the front of the airport, when something caught my attention.

A guy with sunglasses and a dazzling smile was flirting outrageously with a pretty girl. She was looking pretty pissed off, and left, not before giving him a huge slap. He let out a gasp and touched the sore red mark that was blossoming on his face.

Our taxi arrived and when we entered in, the very same guy asked from the open window:

"Hey, where are you going?"

I gave him a cold glare.

"None of your business, boy."

"Come on, I want to go to a camp and I don't have any money left, could you help me?"

I was about to answer that I wasn't a charity association for morons, but my mum cut me:

"A camp you said? Isn't it Half-blood hills?"

"Indeed Ma'am" he stared at me with huge eyes, as if he was judging what was my chances to survive.

"Well, come with us Mr…"

"Victor, Victor Luciani."

That was the longest taxi drive ever. Of course that sunny boy was getting along very well with my overly smiling mother. I was in the middle, hearing them babbling and laughing, suddenly feeling very alone. It's not my fault if I have a hard time getting along with people. I couldn't do the nice chatting stuff and my dry sense of humour was often taken as mockery or insolence. I sighed, whishing for peace.

Instead I got an explosion.

* * *

The car blew off the road. Something incredibly strong coming from the left pushed us out, and the car went down the hill, making tons. Inside, we were shaken terribly, and my head bang on the door powerfully. When the car finally stopped, everything turned quiet.

I opened painfully my eyes. My vision was blurry and my head was aching badly. I looked around and saw my mum unconscious, her right leg twisted in a horrible way. I met Victor's gaze. He seemed a totally other person now, ready to fight like he had done this his entire life. He touched his sunglasses and it turned into a bronze bow, a quiver full of arrows next to it. I didn't even try to understand how. My mother was hurt and we needed to get out of here. The taxi driver looked fine and anyway, I didn't care about him. Victor whispered:

"Listen, Lanna. You are going to get your mother out while I'll be distracting it. Then we run."

I nodded.

"Let's go."

I followed him. He sprinted to the top of the hill, his bow glowing dangerously in his hand. I managed to get my mum out of the car. She was groggy and I wasn't brave enough to get a look at her wound. I put her arm around my shoulders and started to half drag her, half walk her. I was heading to the forest. It was safe. If only I was strong enough to hide her there, I could go back and help Victor fight whatever it was.

That's when all got wrong.

I heard Victor scream. He was loosing. The ground vibrated under my feet. I turned and the biggest man I've ever seen was running to me, a sword in his hand and one eye on his figure. Victor was lying on the ground, his hand on his ribs, bleeding.

I was trapped. I refused to abandon my mother but in the same time I didn't wish for an early death. I started to run. My mother was a bit more awaken now, but her twisted leg kept her from running. If only I could reach the forest…

The Cyclops was behind me. He raised his sword, pointing it at me. Then my lovely mother, Aimee Hasting, did the most reckless and courageous thing.

She took the blow for me

She jumped on me and the blade pierced her breast. I screamed. No, it was unbearable. No, no, no…

But the filthy Cyclops wasn't done. He strikes down again. I dodged it and kicked him with all my hate in his crotch. He yelped, furious and tried to chop my head off. I avoided it, but the blade hit me nastily on the shoulder. Blood was running on my shirt, but I was too angry to think. I punched him hardly behind his knee. He lost balance for a moment, and I stroke again between his legs. I was lost; I couldn't fight with only my fists and feet. The monster drew his sword for a final blow. I closed my eyes.

But it didn't come. The noise of an arrow crossed the air. Then another, and another, and another. They stabbed the monster in the back. He yelled and turned into a shower of gold.

I gazed up to see Victor standing on the hill, his bow on his hand, still bleeding. But I didn't care. I dragged myself to my mother. A mare of blood was on her tank top. I lifted her head.

"Mum, don't worry; we're going to fix you… Mum, don't leave me alone… Please…" I cried desperately, she hadn't the right to die; she was too soft, too nice to die this way.

"Lanna" her voice was as dry as the sand "I love you… You're my greatest joy… My beautiful present from the sky…"

"Don't say this, we're going to heal you, it's not the time for goodbyes..."

She smiled, touched tenderly my face and slowly closed her eyes…

**Review please!**


	6. Nightmare and memory under the Moon

**Unfortunately I don't own Rick Riordan wonderful story...:'(**

**Enjoy!  
**

Chapter 6: Nightmare and memory under the Moon

You may think I cried. I didn't. My lost was beyond any tears. I couldn't think, I didn't even bother try. Life wasn't worth living anymore.

Victor knelt besides mum's body. He immediately knew she was dead. He searched in his pocket and put two golden coins in her left hand. Then he murmured something, which sounded like a blessing in ancient Greek. I didn't care. He touched my arm. He said that we had to go. Later, I wondered how he managed to walk to us with his wounded side. But now, I didn't care.

We left her. I didn't want to. She deserved a grave. A grave for the brave, selfless daughter of Asclepios. But Victor made me go away. I saw the driver in the taxi cab. Maybe he was hurt. But I didn't care. Victor's injury was a mess of blood, dust and sweat. He was very pale and seemed weak. But he was the one leading. He could make us go to Hell (or more likely the Underworld), I didn't care.

The only thing I remembered was a long walk. Then a strawberry field. A golden dragon circled around a pine tree. Victor fell on the ground. I dragged him to the top of the hill. People were there. People who were wearing orange t-shirts. Some ran to Victor's unconscious body. The others began to ask me questions. I didn't care. I passed out.

* * *

The moon was simply beautiful. A perfect round globe up in the dark, star-less night. It was giving the ocean a peaceful silver glow. The sound of the waves brushing the cool, pale sand, the salty air, everything was perfect. But a man and a woman were debating, breaking the silence of the night.

"Are you sure we can talk safely here?" said the woman with a sweet, gentle voice.

"Yes, Artemis and Poseidon are having a council tonight… Something about the influence of the moon on the tides. Let's talk business. How is it going?" answered the deep, manly voice.

"We haven't found a good location to hide her. But I'm not worried. The others always seem to forget about her. When she won't be there anymore, the Olympians will understand how much they need her…"

"Wait" he looked straight at me "go away your little brat, you dear dead momma never told you it's impolite to listen to conversations?"

Something punched me hard on my stomach. A cold sensation started to grow in me. Bad memories hit me. When I was four and broke my arms by falling out of a tree. When I was six and a bully threw his soda at my face. At eight, when everybody was able to read, except me. Now I was ten, my history teacher remarked in front of everybody that I was certainly some sort of lazy, violent kid. Twelve, others girl body were getting more and more feminine. I still looked like a boy. Twelve again, my mum is not my mum. Still twelve, some crazy monsters attack us. Twelve, my mother dies because of me.

I woke up, sweating and panting. The room was dark and silent. By the open window, you could see the full moon shining. It all had been a bad dream. Mum was probably sleeping in her bed. No monsters, no insane gods, nothing… I sighed and got up.

It hit me like a baseball bat. I was wearing an orange t-shirt. I didn't have any orange t-shirt with "Camp Half-Blood" written on it. I ran out of the room.

At my left and my right were lines of cabins. The first two were in a pure Greek style temple, with white marble walls and elegant columns. The one at the right had a bronze door with holograms of lightning bolts, whether the left one had pomegranates and flowers and a peacock at the very top of the façade.

I walked. The next cabin seamed cut from the bed of the sea, a blue aura glowing around it. And it continued. One looked like a war zone, with messy red paint all over the wall. An other had owl printed onto the door, and it seemed to calculate your strength and your weakness. There was a golden cabin, one with three large smokestacks that arisen from the top.

I stopped at the eight cabins, which shimmered in the moonlight. Pelts and prints of deer and wild animals were hanging on the walls and around it. Artemis, I thought, like in my dream.

The line of temples was continuing. I even saw one, black and brown, with a symbol of two crossed swords on the columns, which made me want to confess everything I had done wrong in my life.

I went to the very centre of the circle the cabins were forming. There was a fire burning, and a young girl was tending it.

"Hum, I'm sorry, may I sit with you?" I asked timidly.

She looked at me in the eyes. Hers were warm, welcoming fires. I shuddered. I didn't like fire. Even those one make me uncomfortable. Fire burns, fire destroys. I was scarred of fire.

"Take a sit" she indicated a place in front of her.

"So, have you, hum, been here for a long time?" For once I was the one making a conversation.

"Quite a long time indeed" she smiled like she was enjoying some private joke. A deep silence fell between us.

"Oh, so you must know a lot of things…" My conversation skills hadn't improved a bit.

"Yes, I think you are quickly going to consider the camp as your second home."

I chuckled darkly.

"No, it's my only house now. My mum's dead." I answered it more abruptly that I meant.

"I'm sorry…" Again she looked at me in the eyes, and this time I had a vision.

I was at my house. My mum was in front of me. I could hear her laughing, see her beautiful white hands. She came to me and patted my cheek, like when I was a kid and I had done something bad. I smiled, feeling warm and cosy inside. Everything was as usual. The light cigarette smell, the old looking sofa, my mother's warm, sweet presence. It was my home, my earth.

I gasped; suddenly everything got back to normal, the camp fire was blazing higher and warmer than before.

"How did you do that?"

"Dear Lanna, you must be careful with appearance…"

"You're not human"

"No indeed." I thought about the fire, the vision of home I had, the way she tended the earth.

"You are Hestia?"

She nodded.

"I'm happy you take the time to talk to me. It's rare."

Wahoo! That was crazy. I was talking to a goddess. Someone who was about three thousands years old and had all powers over fire and home. A bad impression must be deadly for demigods.

"I have been terribly rude to you, Lady, I'm sorry" I apologized flatly.

She laughed lightly. The flames grew suddenly higher. I jumped away and fell on my butt.

"Oh, you don't like fires?" she seemed offended.

"Not really… Fire is dangerous if you can't control it." I tried to regain my dignity and sat straight. The only mention of fire made me shiver.

"Yes, but when you master it, it's warm, it protects you, it leads you in the dark."

"You have the moon in the dark" I answered stubbornly "and a good gun protects you very well."

Her face saddened, like she knew something I didn't.

"The moon isn't always here." The dawn was breaking "I have to go Lanna; it's been a pleasure talking to you. Don't look at me when I take my divine form or you'll be destroyed."

"Err, okay." She didn't wait for my answer. She started to glow. Fortunately I remembered to close my eyes.

**I have a question (for history class), which language do you think is more beautiful: French or Spanish?^^ (I'm not talking about useful)  
**

**Thanks!  
**


	7. The god of wine and party isn't that fun

**I don not own Percy Jackson. Review please!**

Chapter 7: The god of wine and party isn't _that_ fun…

The morning horn blew a deep, lonely sound in the foggy daybreak. People were coming out of the temples, some more awaken than others. Noticeable similarities existed between people of the same cabins. For example, the ones coming from the nineteenth cabin had really contrasted physiognomies: very dark eyes and hair matching a snow-like skin, or a very brown complexion pairing ice-blue eyes. They all had the same derisive smile, as if they loved to mess with other's people life. The two only persons from the first cabin, a boy and a girl, had both electric blue eyes and a royal attitude. The seventeenth temple's people were very good looking, as if their parent was the god of models. Others, from the sixth house…

"Lanna" a warm voice called. I spurted, briskly extracted from my observations. At my left, proudly camped on his four legs, a half horse guy was talking to me. His lower body was a powerful white stallion. Where the neck of the horse should have started, there was a human torso.

"You're half horse." I remarked blankly. Thanks to state the obvious Lanna!

"I personally prefer centaur." He gave me a weary look, as if it wasn't the first time someone told him this. "My name is Chiron, your trainer."

For a moment, I was quiet. Then my brain started to work furiously, trying to make sense with his words.

"You were Achilles coach." The words came confusingly out of my mouth. Chiron's eyes got far away, three thousands years ago. Maybe he was remembering the good old times?

"Indeed I was," his response was soft "but I didn't call to talk about me, I'm here for you. We need to discuss about what happened, follow me please." He began to trot, but I didn't make the slightest move.

"Are you okay Lanna?" He was surprised, visibly not accustomed to disobedience. I answered in a freezing voice:

"It would be nice for once to tell me what's happening and where I am and who you are… I'm tired of being directed around, as if I'm some sort of puppy. My mum…" my intonations became hard, rushed "died and I'm pretty close from the breaking point. And by the way, you're a mythical guy, why on earth would I follow you?" I darted him a defying glare.

"Lanna, you must trust me, I'm here to help you… Please, follow me to the Big House, and I promise, I'll explain everything… Please, believe me…" Contrarily to so many adults, Chiron didn't try to fight or make me bend in front of his so called authority.

I had nothing to loose, so we headed silently to the Big House.

* * *

How do you imagine the god of wine and pleasures? Probably a young man, with a pleasant portliness, a wide, cheerful smile and a pink carnation due to wine and parties. Now you can imagine my shock when I met a grumpy god wearing a leopard short. This very same guy was also seriously getting on my nerves.

I wasn't the only one: Victor Luciani had lost his dazzling smile and I could hear his teeth screech. Only Chiron was as peaceful as ever.

"I'm really sorry for your mum Lanna. She was a great girl, very nice and patient, a brave fighter too; it's a terrible loss…" Chiron was trying to comfort me, and Victor gave an apologetic glance but I didn't reply. I simply concentrated on the floor, refusing to collapse in front of them.

When I arrived with Chiron, Victor was waiting, in a way better shape than last time. He ran to me and started to apologize, to beg my pardon. He was sorry, he hadn't been fast enough…

I cut him, saying it wasn't his fault; he did the best he could. I wasn't in the mood for this; I knew deep down inside that it was my entire responsibility. My mother had looked after me all my life, and the only time she had needed my help, I had failed miserably.

Fortunately Chiron stopped Victor in his litany and before I punched him. He made us enter the room. Sitting in a comfortable sofa, was a guy I immediately knew I wasn't going to like: Mr D, as known as Dionysus, god of wine, party and craziness. You wonder how this crabbed, bitter man could be the patron of fun, I honestly don't know.

I had to count them my story, and I tried to narrate the facts the most objectively I could. I spoke about the Dog, the Hunters, my meeting with Victor and the accident in a clear way.

When I told them about my mother's death, Chiron and Victor began to comfort me or beg my pardon. Not Mr D.

"Bah, it's a little creep in less on this earth…" his voice made me think of vinegar and bad wine. "Vince, you can go now." Victor didn't answer and get out of the room, but his all attitude was irritated toward Mr D. In my case, I was going to kick him in his guts; unfortunately Chiron stared warningly at me, knowing my intentions. I took all my inner strength to keep my cool.

"As for you Laura…" Mr D continued, insensible to my murderous glare.

"It's Lanna."

"Whatever Lola, you're going in the Hermes cabin until you get claimed. The other punks will take care of you."

Chiron rolled his eyes and indicated me the exit.

"I need to talk to Mr D for a minute Lanna, can you go out please."

He talked to a wall, I had already stormed out.

* * *

Outside, the sky was already a perfect blue and campers were bustling everywhere.

"You shouldn't be so angry at him" remarked a voice with an accent I've never heard before.

I turned to see a girl about fifteen, with high cheek bones and a cheerful smile. At her left side was hanging a bronze sword.

"Mr D was taken away from everything he liked: wine, party and his wife… Maybe he's a jerk for most of the campers, but actually he's really nice…" she continued with a huge grin. She had a nasal pronunciation, and seemed no to know the "h" was actually use in English.

"You should be happy he exists, after all he invented the wine and parte-y!" Again, there was this ridiculous expression on her face, as if she was about to burst out laughing at any time.

She was, for all of this, really getting on my nerves.

"Maybe you should leave me alone." It was a cold, frank answer. I didn't want to kill anybody yet.

"Sorry girl, but Chiron asked me to show you around. My name is Margaux Duroy, by the way…" She indicated the cabins in a large gesture. She didn't wait for my reply and started to walk to them.

I sighed and followed. She was walking quickly, and started to babble about the cabins:

"So Zeus and Hera, here Poseidon, Demeter…" She named every building, adding personal comment as:

"If you don't want to get old prematurely, don't tell to a Hebe kid is unuseful."

"That's the Ares cabin; it matches their personality, doesn't it? Ugly and stupid."

"Never,_ ever _say to the Athena cabin they're dumb. You don't want to die an early death."

"When an Apollo guy asks you to listen to his poetry, RUN!"

"Be careful with the Morpheus, it's horrible to have nightmares during an entire week…"

Margaux kept chatting, not bothering I wasn't paying attention. On the way, I had met numerous demigods, matching every nationality and demographic you could imagine. The six inhabited continents were represented and as many languages. They were mostly teenagers, but there were some who didn't even look five and other probably in college. Other had goat legs and tiny horns on there head. I think I even saw a young girl changing in a tree. My mother had told me they were satyrs and nymphs. My mother…My heart shattered, and I fought the urge to hit somebody, anybody…

Finally, we stopped in the front of an old looking gymnasium, with a green symbol on the doors.

"That's the Hermes cabin. You'll stay here until you'll get claimed. The lunch is at 12 pm and the diner at 6 pm, I'll see you there. Do you have any question?" she demanded courteously.

I shook my head negatively. Faster I'll be away from Margaux and her accent, better I'll be.

"You're a talkative person, aren't you?" she added mockingly.

I didn't bother reply and went inside the old looking gymnasium.


	8. A typical day at camp

**I do not own Percy Jackson. I beg you for a review**,** please!**^^

Chapter 8: A typical day at camp...

The inside of the Hermes cabin was pretty much like the outside: old and overcrowded. Teenagers, all about my age, were running everywhere, and a suspect sent of burnt shaving cream and unwashed underwear was floating in the air. The elder, had similar features: a pointy nose and a smile which immediately made you thought of a trouble maker. A voice interrupted my thought:

"You're Lanna Hasting?" It was a guy, about eighteen, who had a mischievous grin stuck on his face.

"I'm Travis Stoll, the cabin counsellor with my brother Connor." A son of Hermes named Stoll. Was it some sort of silly joke? He continued:

"Victor told me you didn't have any clothes, so I took some for you." He gave me a little package. "You need to find a little space for you, fortunately we're mid-June, you can't imagine what it's like in July. Hopefully, you're godly parent will claim you before. Normally it'll be tonight."

"Oh and be careful with your stuffs, my siblings have sticky fingers."

Oh great…

* * *

It's crazy what you can discover in one morning. Travis and Connor led the 11th cabin to the archery, where a bunch of people with tan skin and shiny smiles were waiting for us, and strangely they were much alike Victor.

"Hey Lanna!" a male voice greeted me. I sighed internally: speak of the Devil…

Victor raced to me with a goofy grin on his lips.

"You have archery class?" I rolled my eyes: no, I'm simply here to take a little sunbath, don't you see?

"Anyway", gods why did he have to be so excited? "Our dad being Apollo, we're the best with a bow and arrows here! And…"

"The best with a bow? You didn't talk to the Hunters recently it seems…" it was followed by the trills of a mocking bird. A beautiful girl was laughing at him, her curly hair dancing around her face. She was probably from South American ascendant, judging by the coffee colour of her skin and raven hair. She was wearing the camp's outfits: orange shirt and blue jeans, but amazingly it fits her, as it was model for her.

The bitter, burning taste of jealousy filled my mouth.

"I think last time they defeated you, again…" a huge smile spread across her face, showing her straight white teeth "And of course you forgot Eros; didn't he beat your daddy last time?"

Victor clenched his jaws, something he always seemed to do when he was angry.

"Lanna this is Linda Do Valle, a daughter of Eros, but I bet you had already guessed…" Linda didn't pay attention and started at me. I hold her glance. Her eyes were a clear, icy blue, which was almost shocking from someone so typed. She smiled again, but this time it wasn't quizzical, almost… interested.

"Oh you were the one who bring our dear Victor back..." she looked at Victor, derisive and added "well if one day you want to train with the _real_ best archers, you're welcome." Then she walked away, proud and very straight, irradiating self satisfaction.

"Hades I hate her!" Victor exploded, something he was probably willing to do since she arrived "Eros is the best, Eros is the king of hearts, Eros the Terrible…" He was imitating her with an irritating, high pitched tone "at least we do not spend our day, wondering in front of our own awesomeness!"

I bet it was something coming from an Apollo kid…

"Maybe next time you should tell her…" I couldn't help saying, mildly annoyed, mildly amused by his attitude "after all she isn't invincible as far as I know…"

"Yeah but I'm scarred she'll curse my love life…" he seemed so sad and pitiful that I laughed.

"Oh come on, you're the son of the God of Arts and Oracles, you can fight this love chick, Sunny boy!" I hit him playfully on his shoulder. Wait, was I socializing? Oh gods, it must be the air or something. Victor lowered his head:

"Let's see what your worth with a bow…" He handed me the thin and elegant piece of wood, and the handle melded perfectly in my hand. I tighten and loosen my grip, weighing it, testing it like the connoisseur I wasn't. Victor gave me an appreciative look:

"You seem like a natural, that's' good. Now follow me." He gracefully raised the bow and placed himself properly, the target two hundred feet away. Lightly, he put the arrow and drew the string behind his ear and then he took a deep breath, very concentrate. He expired and let go. The arrow flew in the sky, mortal stroke shining under the sun, and it hit the target right in the middle. Victor let out a satisfied growl and turned to me:

"Your turn, show me if you can beat these Eros chicks."

I tried to do as him, a bit shaking. The string was hard to pull, and I only brought it to my cheek. The sun was blazing me and I blinked, annoyed. I let go and the arrow raced faster than I thought between my fingers. It was in the sky, less precise, a bit clumsy, but it touched the target, very exenterated from the middle.

"Hey that's a good shoot!" Victor seemed a bit impressed, and he lifted his sunglasses "maybe I've got a new sister!"

I didn't point out that we were the complete opposite. I had seen his siblings and I was sure Apollo wasn't my dad. And I was neither as good looking as the Eros's kid.

"Now let's see how we can improve this…" Victor continued enthusiast, "you should take time to breathe out before you let go. Do it again."

Surprisingly, Victor was a great teacher, patient and helpful.

At the end of the lesson, he shook his blond hair, taking a dignified voice:

"It was a very constructive lesson; I'd like to keep teaching you about archery, if you agree."

I didn't show it, but inside I was pretty pleased. It's rare when I make friend especially to someone like Victor. Even if we were bond by death, it was still nice.

Unfortunately, sword practice wasn't so funny. Our trainer Stefan Anderson was a child of Ares, implying the stereotype of the stocky, muscular and brainless warrior. He had scars covering his body not important but large, and he wore them like a soldier his medals: with pride and love. When we arrived he raised his axe, swelling his already impressive muscles.

Later, I learnt that he had tenderly named it "breeze skull".

I wondered if he knew that Apollo and Eros kids were already competing for the Big-Headed prize of the year.

He gave us bronze swords and we started to practice. Being the only demigod friendless, Stefan fought with me. After the billionth times landing on the sand, the son of Ares exclaimed:

"Come on, defend yourself! You have to be tougher if you want to survive! My little sisters are better fighter than you!" He gave me disdainful glare and I surge of anger flashed through my body. I jumped on him, attacking violently, without thinking; my thoughts were replaced by pure instincts and I had the agreeable surprise of making him take a step back. He took advantage of my lack of concentration and harshly sent the flat of his axe in my ribs.

"Rule number one: never loose concentration."

I dropped my sword and Stefan gave me a powerful blow on my shoulder. I thought I heard my bone snap.

"Rule number two: you dropped your weapon, you dropped dead."

I turned from him, trying to pick up my sword but he attacked ruthlessly my uncovered back.

"Rule number three: always protect your back."

I pounced over him, attempting to punch him in his face, but he kicked me in my belly with his elbow and I stumbled on the ground.

"Rule number four: if someone is stronger than you, use your speed and not a direct attack."

I was flat on the floor, my sudden outburst of energy gone, definitely gone. My shoulder was painfully pointing under my skin, while my ribs seemed to float everywhere inside my body. My back was aching badly where the axe had touched me. I wasn't brave enough to get up. Stefan pressed Breeze skull on my jugular. The cold metal bit my tender flesh and I felt a warm string of blood running on my neck.

"Rule number five: never, ever give up." His voice was deep, almost sad, and full of memories. Then he quickly looked at my injuries and added:

"Go to the infirmary, I think you have a broken shoulder and few ribs too. Go away, your coward."

On those very encouraging words, I flew to the nursery room.

I directed my step where I had slept last night, supposing it was there. In my misfortune I got lucky. It was a big building, clean and light, with few beds occupied by campers. A boy with stunning grey eyes, the exact same I had seen among the Hunters, had his leg roasted by what it seems like… lava? An Apollo boy was healing him. At the moment she saw me, a young girl ran to me and immediately made me sit and removed my dirty shirt. She made me eat a piece of food and put a gooey stuff on my injuries while humming a prayer.

That's when I recognised them. The long, beautiful white fingers of my mum. Quick, running on my wound, light as butterflies, accurate, they were exactly like hers.

No! Don't think about her! It was my fault, my fault! I didn't deserve to live; she had sacrificed her life for someone who wasn't worth it… Two persons were fighting in my head: the first, my reason, my sanity was telling me I couldn't have done anything, that she had made her choice. The other, my heart was a tornado of emotions: guilt gnawing my conscience, endless sadness, burning anger and above all, the terrible, heartbreaking hurt. For a moment I suffocated, the weigh of my conscience taking my breath away.

The girl was done with me. I put my shirt back, murmured a thank and get out, miserable as the stone.

**Thanks for reading, hope your enjoy! Please Review!**


	9. Where I FINALLY get claimed!

**I do not own Percy Jackson (obvious!) Reviews would be appreaciated, thanks!**

Chapter 9: Where I FINALLY get claimed!

Two weeks passed. Two week of training and going outside everyday. And nobody had claimed me yet. I started to get a nice routine, and even made some friends. Victor was still teaching me archery, and I was progressing rather quickly. More and more campers were coming everyday, from all over the world. At the Hermes table especially, we were speaking more than ten languages, and each diner people were getting claimed. Most of the times, teenagers all my age, were throwing their meal in the fire and puff! Here sons of Nemesis, there a new Ares bully, puff! Let's have a beautiful Aphrodite boy! Oh look at the shiny hologram of a Hemera's kid!

I was getting a bit concern, seeing all those freshly demigods already claimed… Chiron told me that maybe my dad or mum was waiting for a notable action coming from me. It sometimes happened, especially among the Big Three.

We didn't have the famous "capture the flag" yet, something everyone seemed very excited about. Instead the Dionysus kids presented us a tragedy, and yes for once, we saw Mr D happy. No kidding. Among them was Margaux Duroy, the ever smiley one. I overheard that she was actually French, a country which had lots of affinities with Mr D: wine, a pronounced penchant for drama and a grumpy temper.

That was the good part of my oh-so-great-life.

The terrible now, resumed in one word: nightmares.

Nightmares of my mother were haunting me endlessly. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see her: she was there, happy as ever, people whispering in the background. Extending my hand the furthest I could, I was desperately trying to touch her but she was out of reach. Then her face would change, becoming the cyclop, a fierce, evil smile painted on his lips, mocking me. The whispers would become shoots, yelling: "guilty!" The cyclop would start to walk to me and I couldn't even run my legs being stuck on the ground. When he was finally in front of me, meaning when I was able to get a good look at his misshapen teeth, he would raise his sword and…

Each time I'd woke up sweating and panting. My nights being short and restless, I was in a perpetual state of exhaustion, which didn't really help my swordsmanship.

Stefan was as insulting and brutal as ever and I became apprehensive of this class. I still had the sour taste of humiliation in my mouth; I wanted to make him pay for this. In the other hand I was so wore out by my nightmares that I couldn't even hold my sword more than three minutes. Stefan's continual mockeries were also seriously getting on my nerves. Knowing my temper I knew it was going to happen: I cracked up.

Stefan was humiliating a poor boy about my age whose frail constitution was making him an ideal prey for the bully Stefan was. He was cruelly making fun of him, dodging his attacks easily and tormenting him by making the fight longer. At least when Stefan finally decided to finish the poor kid, he hit him in the leg, more violently that he needed, simply enjoying the fact he was more powerful. The son of Ares was probably going to mock his weakness, but exceeded, I cut him off:

"Your bastard, you like to laugh at someone less experienced, but tell me, what would you do in front of a real fighter?" The crowd took a step back and made a circle around me. Wahoo, thanks for the support guys!

Stefan's face turned an angry red.

"Fight me if you dare." His answer was shocked by rage. I jumped on the arena and brandished my sword. The son of Ares didn't wait and charged at me like a wild boar. I rolled on the side and his axe brushed my face. Why did I say this? Stefan despite his lack of brain and violence was a very good fighter. He was stronger, more experienced and made for war, in the other hands I had just been here for two weeks and I was no match for him. My sword was uncomfortable in my hands when I parried his attack; I needed to gain time. I started to retreat slowly, trying to dodge or ward off Stefan's furious weapon. But my swashbuckler's skill couldn't be compared with the god of war's son. His axe, deadly promise, bit my flesh, right on my left shoulder. I cried out in pain, and he took benefit of my lack of concentration by giving a deep cut in my left thigh. I collapsed on the sand, my sword was sent to the opposite of the arena. . Stefan smiled maliciously:

"Already tired, little Lanna? I thought you were a bit better."

"Look at the big stain!" I pointed to his head. "Oh sorry, it's your face!"

Stefan threw his axe furiously at me but I avoided it and tackled him to the ground. I began to crawl, desperately searching for my sword. I got a glimpse of a shiny object, not too far away. I got up and started to run to it. But Stefan caught my ankle and drew me on the ground. I violently kicked him in his nose and he let go. I sprinted on my knees and combed the sand hopelessly where I had seen the shiny thing. Finally, my fingers touched a cool piece of bronze. It was a dagger, about sixteen thumbs, and I victoriously waved it.

Suddenly, a shadow was over me. I turned to see Stefan, standing behind me, his nose bleeding crazily, two purples haematomas forming under his eyes. He had a wicked, mad smile on his lips and he downed quickly his axe. My dagger intervened between it and my neck and I riposted, punching him in his belly. He backed away, fold in half.

"What's up, Piggy face? You aren't going to be defeated by a little girl?" I couldn't help but mock.

He rushed wildly at me and I wasn't fast enough to dodge him. We both fell on the sand, like two wrestlers. Stefan immediately got up and began to swing his weapon angrily above my head.

Something I didn't know, the same thing that had saved me from the Dog, woke up. Was it anger or fear, I really don't know.

My mind became clear and focused and a burst of energy ran down my body. Why was I fleeing him? He was a prey after all, my prey. I got up, repositioning myself more prudently. We began to circle around each other, waiting for a single mistake from the other. With my now sharp eyes, I saw Stefan tightened his grip three times around Breeze skull. Then he attacked, aiming my neck. I ducked it and placed a bloody cut on his chest. Furious, he used his axe's handle to make me backed away. I hissed, wild cat combating a boar.

Three times again he clamped the handle, and again he charged. We fought a moment, metal against metal, and I stepped back, still circling around him.

For a moment, it was silent. I crossed the concentrated glare of Ares kid, two orbs of hate and concentration. He stroke again, so fast that I was only aware of a murderous bronze flash crossing the daylight. I honestly don't think anyone could have stopped it.

But his little tic had betrayed him. Three times he had tightened his grip, twitch he wasn't aware, revealing he was ready to attack. And I was waiting for it.

This time I didn't wait for his blow. I rolled on the sand and hit behind his left knee, cutting the sinew. I followed my instinct and as quickly as I could I did the same with the right one. The god of war's son lost his balance and collapsed on the ground; I jumped on him and snatched his axe off, pointing my dagger on his throat. I was feeling like a predator, ready to achieve him. Stefan's face lost all his colours and I _smelt_ his fear… I let out a fierce growl and raised my weapon, ready for the kill.

That's when I saw my reflection in his frighten eyes.

A strange girl, wild and powerful was looking hungrily at him. Her eyes were yellow, a dark light shining in them, and her teeth were showing, in the manner of a beast. She was a hunter and she had caught her prey.

I was this dangerous, blood thirsty beast.

It was like throwing freezing water in my face. I jumped back, afraid of my blood covered self. Campers were watching me, different expression painted on their faces: surprise, shock, excitement and fear. My sharp animal senses were feeling it.

"I didn't mean to…" My voice sounded alien.

But they weren't glaring at me. Their eyes wide open; they were looking at the shiny hologram planning above my shoulder…


	10. A different perspective

**I don't own PJO. I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 10: A different perspective.

(Margaux's POV)

"Do you have twenty cents?"

I searched in my pocket until my fingers touch the cool piece of metal and handed it to the tired looking seller. A journalist on the screen behind him was reporting from Los Angeles, where multiple fires had started, and then he showed the plains burning in Texas and the other countless blazes which had spread across the whole country since yesterday. I couldn't hear what the journalist was saying, but I was sure of something: it wasn't natural.

"Do you want anything else?" The vendor's voice cut my reverie.

"No thanks, good night." I got out of the half café, half grocery store and enjoyed the warm summer air on my face. I'll have to tell Chiron about the events I saw on television, maybe he could tell me what was going on. After all, those kinds of disasters only happen when gods are involved: to name one, the second Titomanchy where almost half of the United States had been destroyed due to a hurricane, aka Typhoon. Holy Hades, I'm glad I didn't have to fight this one!

Nobody was outside, so I nonchalantly sat on the road. My hand plunged into my bag, extracting a mashed, a bit torn packet of cigarettes. I took one out and made it roll gently between my fingers. I chuckled. Definitely, being truant is at the same time fun and relieving, plus I was rather annoyed by all the restrictions we had at camp. I mean, come on I'm fifteen, I want to live not spend my day training for some random reasons as "saving the world". The worst was I had to speak English all day, and I didn't even like this language! Too much pressure isn't good for teenagers, especially when they have ADHD.

I grabbed the lighter, shielding the little fire it produced with my palm, my cigarette stuck between my lips. I was about to ignite the tip of it when the soft sound of cracking branches interrupted my action.

From the corner of my eyes, I got a glimpse of a slim girl coming out of the thickets that bordered the road. She entered the café/grocery nimbly, not paying attention to me. Even though I didn't get a good look at her, she seemed oddly familiar. It was something about her paleness or maybe the way she moved, as she was some sort of wild animal. I contemplated my cigarette again, hesitating. My interior voice warned me: this girl was dangerous and I was going to get in trouble. I smiled widely, well getting problems was a speciality for me. I put back the cigarette in the paper box and headed to the café.

If only I had knew what was going to happen, I think I would have stayed outside and smoked. Bah, at least my lungs were happy.

I entered in the café and the vivid light dazzled me for a moment. The girl was sitting at a table, arguing with the waitress. She hadn't raised her voice and seemed composed, however the way she was glaring at the poor waitress put my survival instinct in alert, and I had to intervene before a murder was committed.

"She's with me." The waitress startled, visibly scared before she recognised me, and let out a relieved sigh. I came here every so often, and by the time she knew I was a respectable consumer.

"Okay then, but if I saw her again alone, I call the Police." Wahoo, the pale girl had probably frightened this poor lady to death. I nodded comprehensively and gave her my best smile.

"As you wish, Madame." Adding Madame or Monsieur at the end of a sentence is something I do to make adults appreciate me. It fits well with the image French have in the U.S: polite and elegant. Okay, we have other stereotypes, but I prefer to use the good ones!

The little trick worked on the waitress and she seemed to relax a bit. She went finding the menus, not before giving a threatening look to the pale girl, who ignored it royally. I sat in front of her, and began to talk:

"You have certainly a gift. This lady is normally really sweet, what did you do to make her furious enough to phone the cops?" Pale face didn't answer but her eyes became two slots, piercing me. I felt a small smile play at the corner of my lips. I knew where I had seen this fierce look. It was the girl Chiron asked me to show around. What was her name again? Lara? Linda? No Lanna.

"Why did you flee camp?" It was a simple question, and I didn't even ask it accusingly. Nevertheless she seized my throat firmly, chocking me and bended over the table, hissing coldly in my ear:

"Not your business." She let out her grip and came back in her previous position. I coughed, gasping for air. Had this little _pute _menaced me? I made a mental note to make her pay. The waitress arrived with the menus, and she felt the tension between us. I thanked her, and of course Lanna being the nice, happy person she was let out an almost animal growl. The waitress hurried away, not willing to be here when Lanna explode.

How can someone, who I bet wasn't even fifteen, could frighten adults so easily? And holy Zeus, who was her Olympian parent to give her such a temper? Even among The Big Three children they hold it better! _Merde_, what was she doing there anyway?

"I guess I know why the lady wanted to kick you out. If you always behave so kindly…" I smirked and Lanna's fist clenched. Oh, so you don't like to be teased? Let's have fun then:

"You are so tan… Do you often go to the beach?" I smiled brightly at her. "By the way, do you like sticks?" When she didn't respond, I continued, ever so cheery:

"No, because you seem to have one in your ass." It was the final straw and she bounced on me, predator like.

Before you say that I'm a moron, let me add something: I'm a daughter of Dionysus, the god of craziness. It sometimes explains my behaviour.

Now there was an angry girl on top of me, trying to rip my head off. Yeah, sometimes I also wish I was a daughter of Athena. I started to defend myself and punched right in the temple, like my half-brother François had told me. It was pretty effective because she lost balance and stopped to strangle me for a moment. It was enough for the costumers to separate us and kicked us out.

_Fais chier_, the only other café near the camp was situated five kilometres away! Fortunately, I had still my bag and its important cargo with me, at least not everything was lost.

I turned and there was Lanna, still a bit groggy from my attack. I laughed internally: take this one _salope_! I'm not violent, but you had deserved it.

"Why did you try to kill me?" I was angry, and a little anxious she attempts to end my life again, so my accent showed up a bit more than usual.

Of course, she didn't reply. Why wasn't it surprising me anymore? I rolled my eyes and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Her voice was steady, but there was a twinge of apprehension in it.

"It's getting late; I'm going back to camp."

"Don't!" For once her voice was vehement. "What are you going to tell them?"

I turned slowly around, realisation hitting me.

"You want to run away." It was a statement, and she didn't contradict it. "But why? I know it's not always… funny, but I swear it can be great."

She admired the stars for a long time, before softly responding, a bitter smile on her face:

"I'm lost… and scarred. I can't." She regained composure and added, aggressive:

"So are you going to tell them?" She was giving me a challenging look, probably assuming I was going to try to reason her. I have the immense pleasure to say that I surprised her. A wide smile on my lips I riposted:

"I'm coming with you."

Hades yeah, she was more than amazed.

**God, I love Margaux! The words written in italic are french swearing.**


	11. The moon is such a heartless luminary

**Thank you a lot Kataang160 for your reviews...^^ You're the only one who think about it! I really hope you're going to like who is Lanna's parent. If not, then I'm really sorry.**

**I'm really sorry if you hate my OC after this. But I decided since the very begining, so I beg my few readers to be comprehensive. Thank you.**

**I don't own PJO.  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

Chapter 10: The moon is such a dead, heartless luminary…

(Lanna POV)

I contemplated Margaux for an instant, my mouth wide open.

"You're kidding." She grinned, pretty pleased with herself.

"Oh no, you see I like to have fun. And what you are going to do sound way more interesting than spending my entire summer fighting." She took a step closer, staring at me right in the eyes. Even though she was older than me, we were about the same high.

"Plus, you don't have the choice: if I can't come with you, I'd tell everybody that I saw you."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Indeed."

"It's not going to be amusing you know. I will not go clubbing every night, and we will probably end up sleeping outside."

"I don't mind: I can party for both of us. And if you don't snore…"

"What about monsters? They are going to attack us."

"I think you smell stronger than me. While you will fight for you life, I'll run away."

She gazed at me, dead serious. I couldn't believe my ears.

"It's a joke, right?" Again she looked at me severely.

"Yes." And she began to laugh.

I sighed, defeated. Why was all this happening to me? And why was she being so immature? I extended my hand, rolling my eyes.

"Well if it is going to be like this, I shall introduce myself properly: I'm Lanna Hasting." I hesitated, before adding reluctantly. "Nice to meet you."

Of course it was a lie, I could have never been glad to be jammed with Merry-Happy-Cheery-Party –Girl. She observed my hand, amusement sparkling in her eyes as shook it. An evil expression on her features, she replied:

"I'm Margaux Duroy, and where I come from we don't say hello like this." Without waiting for my answer, she grabbed firmly my shoulders and kissed me on both cheeks, making a strange noise with her lips. I squealed. Gods, if I don't kill her by the end of the week…

* * *

We were marching for about thirty minutes now, when the cold silence was suddenly broken by Margaux.

"Where are we going?" She asked light heartedly. She was walking behind me, humming a song like this entire masquerade was just an entertaining game. I didn't bother answer, but interiorly I was worrying a bit. In my hurry of escaping Camp Half-Blood, I hadn't brought anything except the dagger I found in the sand of the arena and some clothes that I had stuffed hastily in a bag. I cursed my lack of clairvoyance and finally spoke back:

"I don't know." The daughter of Dionysus paused abruptly. She raised a quizzical eyebrow and smugly repeated:

"You don't know." She meditated my words a moment and pursued. "Do you have at least a tiny idea of where you wish to flee?"

"Eh, I never suggested you to follow me! I told you it wasn't going to be some lovely promenade across the country."

This time she glared at me directly in the eyes, and spoke slowly, placidly, so different from her useful tone that I was taken aback.

"Why do you want to run from camp?" Her glance intensified. "Even though you've got a temper matching your unsociability, I bet you are way too proud to admit defeat. Then in the café, when you try to strangle me" a little grin sprouted on her face and disappeared almost immediately "you were rabid, yeah, and hateful too. However, and that's what caught my attention, your eyes were sorrowful and so… desperate, like when you are about to kill a wild animal and it decided to give everything it has before dying." She stopped, staring at me expectantly. When I kept my mouth shut and lowered my eyes, she finished me imperturbably:

"Who claimed you?"

I stepped back, careful not to show my emotions. Nevertheless, I was interiorly shaken: how could someone who appeared so unconcerned had actually such a remarkable observation skill? Then I thought about Mr D. again, maybe he was like his daughter: at first glance, he seems not to have the slightest interest in anything but himself. Yet if you look closer, you'll perceive that the god of wine knows way more that he lets show. Like dolphins, who are creatures who love to have fun, and though are smarter than you imagine.

I will fall asleep less stupid tonight.

And with more respect for dolphins and grumpy gods.

Should I tell her or not? I shook my head, annoyed at myself: since when what people conceived bothered me?

"I think you should sit." I smiled sadly, remembering the last person who told me this. Margaux settled comfortably on the ground, waiting quietly for once and I took a deep breath before beginning:

"You are surely the only person a camp who doesn't know it. But it would not delay, so I might explain it as well."

She looked at me questioningly, and I smelt the sweet scent of apprehension mixed with excitement coming from her.

"Shut up and listen now." And I started to narrate the events of the day, making nervous round trips…

"All the campers in the arena were outfacing me. I could read their expression: shock, surprise, and disbelief, and slowly, surely, a wave of disgust and fear. I felt trapped, like an animal in cage, like an innocent man accused of murder. My instinct was screaming: go away! They want to hurt you, you fool! I began to retreat calmly to the doors, facing the other demigods and protecting my back at the same time.

People started to talk and whisper, some rude enough to point fingers at me as if I was some sort of curious creature.

I gradually backed up, praying t they'd be too preoccupied by the situation to pay attention to my careful retreat. Of course, I had forgotten Stefan:

"She's running away, your idiots." He yelled angrily with bloodshot eyes, his face so red from rage that I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I hate sore losers.

Because I'm such a brave girl, I sprinted out of the arena, hearing people shouting at me, and directly headed to the only place I felt safe: the forest.

I can't really remember how many hours I roamed inside. I wasn't myself anymore, some wild beast had taken over me and it only acted by instinct: protect and keep me safe. I don't know if it was voluntary but I woke up from my trance at night, in front of white marble temple. Maybe my instinct thought it was where I'd be sheltered. When the adrenaline rush or whatever you call it ceased, I almost passed out. It appears that this thing always drain all my strength out of me.

Anyway, I went inside the temple seeking for help. When I entered in it, someone whose face was hidden in the shadow was waiting for me…"

* * *

"Hello Atalanta Hasting." Just by hearing this, I immediately knew who it was. Only three persons in this world knew my entire name, one being dead and the second being me.

In front of me was standing a girl about my age, a little moon crescent was stuck in her hair and she surely was athletic and strong, like those marathon runners. But she looked almost exactly like me. It was as if an artist had tried to copy a portrait of her but had made few mistakes. My hair was a bit darker, my complexion a little more tan, my body more curvy and feminine.

"Lady Artemis." My expression was unreadable and my voice cold as the white marble floor.

She stared at me for along time, with those silvery-yellowish eyes I knew so well for contemplating them in a mirror. Inside I was screaming. I hated her so badly for abandoning me. I tighten my jaws. Don't say anything you'll regret said the little voice in my head; she's your mother after all "What are you doing here?"

I felt so tired. So powerless.

"It's where mortals honour me." Her voice was as cold as the dark side of the moon.

"Atalanta, I think you should learn how you were born, before anybody tells you untrue statements. I do not really appreciate that people put in doubt my virginity. I took oath millenniums ago and I refuse that it be questioned by your… existence. " She was still gazing at me, stoical. I refused to lower my eyes, even though her glare was hard to hold. They were two vivid arrows which pierced you to your very soul, intimidating and hard to resist.

"My name is Lanna, and I do wonder why my opinion of you is now so important. It seems Lady, what happened to me or my infamous opinion weren't, pardon my French, your fucking business until now." I kept my voice cool. Temper, temper, I need to hold my temper.

"Watch your language, young girl." She answered severely.

"It's pretty hard to receive orders from a twelve years old looking girl…" I was sourer that I wanted.

"If I knew Aimee Hasting was going to raise you like this, I wouldn't have given you to her…" Her lips tighten the same tic I have when I'm furious.

"Well, you did and she's freaking dead! How can you tell me what's right or wrong? You didn't even exist a month ago! Did you expect me to worship you at the very moment I saw you? Who do you think you are?" I yelled at her. That was stupid. I was shooting at an almost all-mighty being. Did I wish for an early death recently?

"I'm Artemis, the mighty goddess of the Hunt, the Moon and Childbirth" Her voice was low and dangerous "and nobody tells me what I should do." Suddenly I felt my body changes.

My legs shortened, my body was now covered of a brownish fur. My ears were now logs and at the top of my head. Artemis even forgot to be mad for a second and murmured:

"So you're a lynx. I wonder why it doesn't surprise me…" Then she remembered the reason she did this and said in a voice that reminded me of myself when I was angry.

"You're going to listen to me now." I hissed ragingly. The animal part of me wanted to jump on her and hurt her in every imaginable ways. But something, and it wasn't the human part, prevented me from doing this. It was like an order, but an order impossible to ignore. Oh yeah, Artemis is the goddess of the Wildlife and I was now an animal… That clears up.

"You don't have to glare murderously at me" she continued, insensible "I just want to talk. You deserve the truth."

Then she knelt, oddly touching my fury skull, and I got transported thirteen years ago, on Mont Olympus.

* * *

A beautiful woman with dark eyes and a silver diadem crowning her head was arguing with an abnormally "old" Artemis.

"Hera, I'm really happy he cheated on you, otherwise I wouldn't be here!" replied mockingly Artemis "it's not my fault if you can't let him go."

"Young girl, the Lord of the Sky is a dishonest, oath breaker god. I'm only with him because I'm the goddess of marriage and I have a family to care about."

Artemis smiled quizzically.

"That's why I'm so happy. I don't have children to worry about or unfaithful husband to watch out. But you should be pleased to have married him. After all, marriages are not so important anymore and families are now so all over the place. Because of him you won't fade away at least!" I didn't understand why the Hunter was acting this way. From what I understand; she wasn't usually a trouble maker.

"Be careful of what you say, girl." Hera warned her, a rough expression on her face.

"Or what? You don't have any power over me, fool wife." Uh-oh, that wasn't good.

The marbled temple started to glow, forcing me to close my eyes. Even in a memory, I couldn't sight at the true form of a god.

"Indeed, young goddess, I can't make you marry anyone. But you shall feel the wrath of the Queen of the Heavens." Hera's voice was deep, dreadful. Chills of fear went down my spine. Running away seemed like an excellent idea suddenly. "You shall have a daughter, Artemis. I'll make sure she reached her thirteenth year. Then, she shall be your greatest pride or, I really hope, your worst and bitterest enemy." The room went back to normal. Hera was glaring terribly at Artemis, who stepped back, fearfully.

"Pray, Agrotera, pray she doesn't turn out wrongly. Otherwise your days are numbered."

The flashback started to blurry, but before it totally ended, I noticed, hidden in a dark corner, a woman with hair made of snakes and her body covered by bloody strips. She was laughing derisively at the two goddesses fighting.

When I came back to reality, Artemis was giving me an uncertain look, as she didn't know if showing me this was a good idea.

"Get back to normal" she murmured so softly I almost didn't hear. I got back in my human form. I was still on my knees, panting furiously, my fist clenched, my body shaking.

I raised my head and looked straight in her eyes. I glared at the goddess with all the hate and the rage I had.

What? What was I? A curse, a malediction? I had never been wanted? It hurts more than I predicted. Gods, IT SIMPLY HURTS!

I refused… I refused to show her how ashamed and sad I was… The only option left was running… Running fast and far away…

That's what I did.

* * *

I never ran like this before: even when the Dog had chased us, not when I was pursued by the cyclop or an angry teacher. I was running so fast that the forest seemed to blurry around me and the wind was whipping my hair harshly. I stopped sharply and threw up. Only thinking that _she_ loved to run too was making me sick. The stars, cold jewels in the deep night, were watching me without compassion. And of course there was the moon in its last quarter. A wave of nausea hit me: I didn't want to have anything to do with _her_. I wanted to find support on a tree but I remembered it was _her _realm too. Everything I loved was because of _her._ I could taste vomit under my tongue and weakness took over my body.

I fell on the ground: why? Why did I hate _her_? Because _she_ had abandoned me, because I was _her_ curse, because I knew deep down that _she_ would never be my mother. Most of all I felt betrayed.

It disgusted me how much we were similar: wild and cold, prideful and cruel, always situated at the border between the Wild and the Civilization.

Something wet rolled down my cheek and I smashed it, annoyed. There was a movement in the bushes and a beautiful deer came out, his big, smart gaze contemplating me with admiration and fear.

"_Mistress?"_ He asked tentatively, his young voice interrupted the course of my thoughts.

"_Go away…" _I didn't want to talk to anybody, especially an animal so close to my genitor.

"_You shouldn't cry fair princess, or the entire forest will howl in despair." _He answered, full of respect. I wasn't crying. I never cried, not even when my mother died, I probably only had a dust in the eye.

"_I'm not your mistress. Go away…" _I very maturely turned away from him, avoiding his deep brown eyes concerned for my well being.

"_You are our mistress, I smell the Wild in your blood…I'm your servant, and I want to help you…" _He leaped in front of me, quasi servile. I jumped on my leg, and yelled at loud:

"I'm not your stupid goddess, don't you see? Nobody cares for me! Now leave me alone!" My teeth were showing in a beastly behaviour, my muscles tense: I was ready to attack. He understood this better than my orders and sped away, scarred to death.

I put my head in my hands: the poor animal didn't deserve this. I had been mean to the only person willing to comfort me. I glared again at the moon surrounded by the stars, so brilliant and haughty. I felt an icy smile growing on my lips: at least I had one powerful ally to make her pay.

I found my way back to camp and sneaked some clothes and the dagger I found in the arena. Then I walked away until I glimpsed electric lights and headed to it.

That's when we met."

**Agrotera is an epiteth of Artemis. It means the Hunter.**

**I'm really sorry if you think my character is a Mary-Sue now... It's just that when I started to write this story, I had read a parody of an Artemis's kid and I also wanted to show that Artemis isn't a very nice goddess, like everyone seems to believe. She is who keeps the man from going back to wilderness. Please leave a review to tell me what you think...**


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